


Dance On Our Graves

by blackwatch-jess (KessijaScene), SedgeGrass



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Overwatch, Slow Burn, Soldier Enhancement Program
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KessijaScene/pseuds/blackwatch-jess, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SedgeGrass/pseuds/SedgeGrass
Summary: They had changed so much from their stumbled beginnings in the soldier enhancement program. The silver in Gabe's hair and the wrinkles by Jack's eyes were painful reminders of how far they'd come. Morrison had never been farther from him, and Gabriel never loved him more.----A look at Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison's relationship over the years.





	1. Boy Scout

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will explore the expanse of Jack and Gabe's relationship through Gabriel's POV, beginning at the SEP potentially up to present day. More tags and characters will be added as necessary!
> 
> Also, GIANT shoutout to SedgeGrass who is helping me with this fic like crazy. I love you, and this fic would be much shittier without you.
> 
> Now go on! Enjoy!

It was unsettling, to say the least. The walls were bright white, a low ceiling, no windows. It felt like a prison cell, and it made him lean forward, propping his elbows on his knees to focus on the floor instead. Spotless black and white speckled linoleum. It smelled like bleach, and his head was aching from the fumes. Even hospitals didn’t feel like this, like they were up next on death row. The heavy blanket of silence betrayed the nervousness bubbling in the other recruits, but Gabe liked the quiet. It helped him think, to sort through the mess in his head. He reached up, dragging his fingers through his curls. Something about this felt so...detached. Scientific, he decided. Whatever was happening here was different, definitely not standard. It didn’t help that they weren’t telling them shit. A name was called. Movement flickered off to his right, and watched a tall girl, probably standing at six foot tall, strut towards the nurse. The door clicked shut with an aching sense of finality. It didn’t sit well on his mind.

“You new, too?”

The voice beside him stirred him from what he’d been thinking about. Gabriel lifted his head slightly, looking at the man out of the corner of his eyes.

“Pretty sure we all are,” he hummed, nodding his head towards the rest of the people--kids, really--they’d herded into the room. There had been about sixty recruits all in all. He had expected this to take ages, but they were moving them through like an assembly line. Gabe’s curiosity had gotten the best of him at one point, so he called one of the guards over. ‘Physicals,’ said the guard when he’d asked and nothing else. Gabriel knew it was bullshit, but he snapped his jaw shut and nodded anyway.

“Suppose you’re right.” The man shifted forward to rest his elbows on his thighs, imitating Gabriel’s posture. “When do you think they’ll cut the ‘top secret’ shit and let us know why we’re here?”

Gabriel shrugged, opting for silence. People were watching them; they’d been the first, and only, ones to break the silence. He didn’t like having so many eyes on him. Instead, he looked back down at his hands, thumb running over the knuckle of his index finger. It bumped over the scar there, and he took some comfort in the familiarity of its presence.

“You nervous?”

Gabriel almost laughed at that, instead he rolled his eyes. “You always such a chatterbox?”

The man smiled, almost a little sheepishly. “Not one for silence.” He sat back up, bouncing one leg. Gabriel could tell the quiet was killing him, so he sighed and turned his head slightly to eye him up.

“No, I’m not nervous,” he answered, voice flat. The man stopped bouncing his leg.

“Me neither.” A lie. Gabriel could tell by the way he tightened his shoulders. “Pretty excited, though.” The way he said that made Gabriel raise an eyebrow.

“How long you been in?”

“Two years,” he answered, chest puffing like he was proud of that. Once again, Gabriel wanted to laugh. This guy hadn’t seen shit, and Gabe could tell. “You?”

“Four.” He felt tired saying that. It seemed like so much longer. Though he supposed four years was a fifth of his entire life after all. He scrubbed at his face, feeling a bit weary.

“You ever go anywhere?” Gabe shot a sharp look his way, cautious of his motives, but the glint of fascination proved benign.

“Was in Chile for a bit, helped out with that earthquake.” Gabriel watched the door; the nurse should be appearing soon. “Then went to Germany for...eight months?” He shrugged. “Nothing serious.”

The man opened his mouth to answer, but the handle on the door turned, and the nurse stepped out. Her nails were red, stark against the white of the room. She lifted a page delicately, brows furrowed together, then called out, “John Morrison.”

He smiled tightly at Gabriel. “Catch you around.” He stood and sauntered toward the nurse, flashing her a practiced smile that told Gabe he was used to getting what he wanted. Gabe sneered at the blondie’s back, then went back to looking at his hands.

It was only nights ago he’d been handed the neatly folded paper by someone he had never seen before. No letterhead, no name signed. Just a template with his name typed in that he was being assigned to a base he’d never heard of in a town he didn’t think even had a military base. The words ‘effective immediately’ had been stamped in red ink at the bottom of the letter. When Gabriel lifted his head to ask the messenger about the contents of the letter, they were already gone. Nothing about this seemed right. But if he’d learned anything in the military, it was how to shut up and take orders.

“Gabriel Reyes.”

He nearly rolled his eyes at the way she said his last name, but he restrained himself. He stood from his seat and was ushered into the room, the click of the door sounding much louder all of a sudden.

“Please remove your shirt,” she instructed, never lifting her eyes from the paper she was scribbling on. He obeyed and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, awaiting orders. Finally, she looked up, raking her eyes over him. “Please sit.”

Once again, he complied, shirt balled in his fists. She made another note then stood, opening a cabinet. She produced several vials, clinking in a way that was almost pleasant, and an intimidating looking needle. He flexed his arm in preparation, muscles instinctively trying to tense. Needles never were his favorite. She wound a band around his arm, swiping a cool disinfecting napkin over his skin. She plunged the needle in his vein, and he stared at the wall to distract himself. The feeling of the blood dripping out of his body always sent shivers up his spine. She filled the vials methodically, and Gabriel found himself shifting uncomfortably in the silence. It was too heavy, too final.

“May I ask what this is for?”

“No.”

Gabriel tightened his jaw. His fingertips were starting to prickle. Something told him this was going to be the beginning of a very long science experiment. He chewed the inside of his lip until the flesh frayed and tore from the pull of his incisors. When she finally withdrew the needle and unwound the band, he wiggled his fingers to return feeling to them. But she wasn’t done, it seemed. She sorted the vials, slapping labels on them hastily, then picked up a set of syringes. With a sigh, he braced himself. The injections hurt. Sure, the needle stung, but the solution was so thick he could feel it worming its way into his blood. It pooled under his skin like syrup before sliding down his veins. He cringed at the feeling.

Ten injections later--five on each arm--and she released him. She pointed him toward a door on the opposite end of the room. Gabriel slipped his shirt back over his head, and he walked out. He was immediately grabbed at the elbows by two soldiers who escorted him down another clinically white hall to another plain room. They sat him down and left.

Gabriel exhaled through his nose as he looked around. He was already getting very tired of being treated like a commodity. He caught the eye of the man he’d been talking to earlier, who smiled and gave a small, two-finger salute. Gabriel nodded back before looking around. There were some people who were looking sick. One man was so pale, it looked like he’d been drained of his soul. Gabriel recoiled when the man he was watching heaved forward and vomited. A door was thrown open and the man was dragged out while someone cleaned the mess. Others looked so dazed he wasn’t sure they’d noticed the incident, or much less, be able to recall their names if he asked. The woman beside him appeared to be one of them, eyes dull and glazed as she swayed in her seat. Other than the beginnings of a migraine, Gabriel felt fine. A glance around the room showed that there were others in the same boat. Weed out the weak, he mused.

The door at the opposite end slid open. A woman stepped in, arms folded behind her back. A quick cursory glance, and Gabriel jumped to his feet in tandem with the rest of the recruits. They saluted her as she combed through the line up. Without a word, she prowled through the room, eying each of them up. She stopped in front of Gabriel, taking her time to look at him. She had eyes so dark, you couldn’t see her pupils. She was powerful, exuding strength. Her gaze made his skin crawl. Luckily, she moved on, taking her time on several of the recruits, one of them being the blondie he’d been talking to earlier. Her heels rang loudly against the linoleum and unsettled him.

She ended back up at the front of the room. “At ease.” They dropped their arms. She turned to look through the door and nodded. Another pair of soldiers came through, and she pointed out the ones that clearly weren’t cut out for whatever they were doing to them; the soldiers escorted them out, grabbing their arms roughly and taking them to someone qualified to handle them. The rest of them stood there, like cattle waiting to be sent to slaughter, and Gabriel finally felt a twinge of nervousness in his stomach.

“Follow me.” She went through the door she’d came from. The rest of the recruits looked between themselves, eyes betraying their anxieties. Despite the apprehension in his gut, Gabriel bit back a smart ass remark and  pushed past the group to move into the next room. No use being a bitch about it. He entered what appeared to be a training room. A track circled the edge, a climbing wall on the far left, a couple obstacles. Gabriel assumed it was where they would be spending a good majority of their time. While he observed, the others quietly fell in step behind him; they settled themselves into a neat line in front of the woman.

“My name is Colonel Anderson.” She paced in front of them, shoulders slightly hunched as her dark eyes bore holes in the recruits. She reminded him of a wolf. “I am the director of this program. You’ve all been selected by myself to be here.” Gabriel furrowed his brow slightly. He saw the touches of a smile on her lips, but it was devoid of warmth.  “Welcome to the Soldier Enhancement Program. Here, you will become the most important weapon the United States has ever developed. Or you will fail.” She stopped pacing, standing up straight. “Over the course of several weeks, you will be subjected to rounds of injections like you just experienced. Some of you will not make it to the end. Your body will not be able to handle the injections alone. The rest of you may not be able to withstand the physical strain on top of the injections. As seen with previous groups, very few of you are expected to finish the program.”

As she finished speaking, a man entered from the far side of the training room and stood beside Colonel Anderson. His lips were set into a hard line, his shoulders broad and pushed back. He has. Easy eyes that were hard as flint. Gabe knew a former drill sergeant when he saw one. They snapped back to attention and saluted. He grunted out a rough ‘at ease.’ “This is Captain Figueroa. He will be in charge of your training. You will report to him every morning, except the day after your injections, which will be assigned to you shortly.” One man? Gabriel glanced quickly to his right and left, and with a touch of surprise, noted that the group of recruits had been cut down to twenty. A flash of blond grated his nerves. Figures blondie had made it.

Anderson spoke again, “Today, Captain Figueroa and I will be assessing you. Based on what you show us, we will be assigning you partners. The two of you will compliment each other’s strengths and compensate for weaknesses. You will learn to move as one body, one mind. You will be unstoppable.” The glint in her eyes showed there was no arguing this, and by the way some of the others mumbled under their breath, they were none too pleased about the arrangement. While Gabriel wasn’t exactly jumping at the idea of being paired with someone, he could manage. “You will live with your partner, learn to understand them, and how to work with them. It will also provide to you a safety net should you experience any extreme adverse effects from your injections in the situation that the medical staff cannot reach you quickly enough.” Ah, there it was. Can’t have your expensive projects keeling over in the middle of the night. She started to pace again. “You will be monitored in your rooms. Do not let this intimidate you, it is merely for your safety.” At that, Gabriel frowned. Another person to keep an eye on him was one thing but constantly being watched? That unsettled him. Anderson nodded to Figueroa, who took a step forward.

“Assessments begin now. You,” he pointed at someone at the end of the line. “And you.” He picked the guy beside Gabe. “Step forward.”

The pair of recruits did as they were told. One was the tall girl he’d seen earlier. She was nothing but muscle, hair in box braids that swung with every step. A tattoo sleeve curled up one arm, disappearing under her black shirt. The other was a guy with closely shaved hair and scar over his nose. He wasn’t as tall as she was, but he matched her in muscle. It would be a good fight. They gave each other nods, before Figueroa barked out to begin.

The woman was light on her feet, despite her size. She moved like water, sliding easily out of the way of the man’s punches. Her eyes took in his every move. Gabriel held back a smirk, watching as she picked out his pattern with ease. After a kick with all his energy put behind it, she pounced, dropping to a crouch and sweeping his leg from under him. He hit the mat hard, and she stood up slowly. His eyes were unfocused from the fall, so she took pity and put her boot into his throat, making a pistol with her hand and pointing at his head with a smile. There was no malice in it, but pride still sparkled in her eyes.

“Back in line.”

She helped her opponent up, and they retreated. The captain picked out another pair, who were much more violent than the previous fight. They were wild, exchanging hit after hit until blood spattered on the mat. Neither of them knew how to fucking block, apparently, and Gabriel noted at least five different takedown opportunities. But these were brawlers, and their idea of victory was beat the win out of the other. It took ages, but eventually one fell. The winner grinned, teeth covered in blood and one eye nearly swollen shut. Christ.

“You.”

Gabriel nodded.

“And you. Up here.”

Gabriel stepped forward, rolling his shoulders. He took his spot, popping his neck and his knuckles. His migraine was blinding white behind his eyes, but he clenched his jaw to keep it from distracting him. When he looked up, he almost snarled in disbelief. Blondie was across the mat, smiling at him with a touch of smugness to it. Oh, he’d fix that.

The captain barked at them to get on with it, so Gabriel started to circle. Blondie watched him closely, that damn smile still on his face. He watched his movements, waited for him to initiate. If that overconfidence carried over to the battlefield, he wouldn’t have to wait long. He’d seen plenty like him in his four years.

Gabriel almost smiled when Blondie surged forward and swung. He ducked and slipped under his arm, bringing his elbow down on the back of his ribs. Blondie staggered, and Gabriel could’ve finished him then, but he decided he didn’t want to end it quite that early and danced out of Blondie’s reach. The smile on his face was replaced with a scowl. Gabe couldn’t hold back his smirk. “What’s the matter, Blondie? Expected me to roll over for your pretty pageant smile?”

The man set his jaw, and Gabriel ate up the frustration flickering in his blue eyes. He could see the recruits shift, heard a few mumbles. They were the only ones, once again, to speak. The exchange also caught the attention of Anderson and Figueroa. They looked at each other, communicating silently. A flicker of movement snapped his attention back to the fight, and he was just able to slip away from Blondie’s attacks. He was a brawler, could tell by the way he moved. He wanted to move in, beat him down, and be done with it. Gabe was methodical, quiet. He learned as he moved and finished the job with minimal effort.

As he watched, he noticed Blondie’s lack of willingness to use his legs. He favored his fists, heavy hitting punches to put someone on their ass, which was fine in a brawl. But for Gabriel, it told him that he didn’t watch his feet, and it left him wide open. If Blondie pulled another swing like the last one, he could get in easy.

Once again, he didn’t disappoint. He swung hard and fast. It left him unbalanced, and Gabe slid right under, hooking his leg around his ankle. His elbow snapped up and hit his throat, and he kicked back with his foot, dropping Blondie so fast, the recruits behind him hissed in sympathy. Gabriel put his boot on his chest and knelt down. “Smiles won’t win anybody over in this joint.” He stood, then extended his hand for him to take. Blondie, apparently sore about losing, denied it and picked himself up on his own, glaring daggers at Gabriel. They retreated to the line, and Gabriel felt excessively smug about knocking the pretty boy down a few pegs.

The rounds continued, cycling through the line of recruits three times in total. Gabriel won his second, but on the third, he fought the tall woman with the box braids. She ripped him apart, but her smile was infectious so it didn’t sting as much knowing he lost.

Colonel Anderson stepped forward. “You all fought well. Some of you, better than others, but I digress. Remember, whoever you are paired with is your partner for the entirety of the program. If you are displeased with your partner selection, I advise you to suck it up.” She gave them a sweeping stare, as if to challenge them. Of course no one said anything. She beckoned Captain Figueroa forward, and he began to rattle off names. People kept getting called, and all of the recruits that Gabriel had had his eye on were being called. His heart sank. He was going to get put with some asshole, he just knew it.

“Gabriel Reyes.” He felt a touch of satisfaction at hearing his last name being pronounced right after the nurse’s early butchering of it. He tilted his chin up in an effort to look taller. “And John Morrison.”

His eyes widened a fraction, and he whipped his head to the right. When he looked, he saw Blondie looking at him, bewilderment on his face as they looked at each other. No way they had put him with this kid. Gabriel suppressed a growl, and his shoulders hunched forward. Of fucking course.

Gabriel didn’t even hear the rest of the names. He caught Anderson’s eyes, wondering if she’d noticed his displeasure. The twitch of her lips, curling into the smallest of smiles confirmed that she had seen and was daring him to complain. He grit his teeth. No, he wasn’t happy. But he also wasn’t going to let it distract him.

“You will meet me here at 0700 in two days. If you were listening, you do not have training the day after your injections. You’ll soon learn why. When you leave here, you will receive a datapad with your room assignment, injection schedule, and training schedule. Other basic information, such as the times for meals will be provided on the datapad.” Figueroa surveyed them once more. “Welcome to the SEP. Dismissed.”

They saluted Figueroa and Anderson. They all relaxed, some instantly meeting with their newly assigned partners. Gabriel immediately headed for the door, throwing it open. His skull felt like it was splitting open under his skin, and he just wanted to be alone. Before he could get very far, someone placed their hand on his chest.

“Name?”

“Gabriel Reyes.”

They shoved a datapad in his hand. “Your belongings are in your room.” And that was all. He looked down at the device and memorized the room number. He started briskly down the hall, then hoped silently that he had gone the right way. The halls softened from stark white to a softer gray. Little gold plates with numbers hung in the center of the doors, and he breathed a sigh of relief. When he arrived at the door, it opened easily. No locks. Figures. He let the door shut behind him, and he moved past the living area to the two bedrooms in the back. His eyes caught sight of his duffel bag, and he moved to flop down on the bed. Gabe exhaled slowly, letting his body relax. There were spots in the corners of his vision from his migraine, and his brain felt like it was melting and dripping out of his ears. He didn’t rest long. His mouth tasted like metal, so he scrambled to his feet and stumbled toward the bathroom, vomiting up thick, yellow bile, running orange with blood. His teeth chattering, he braced his forearms on the back of the toilet seat. His head stopped feeling like it was exploding, now mostly just a dull ache. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and sat down on the cool tile. Gabriel’s stomach was still rolling, so he wasn’t leaving until he was sure he was fine.

He heard the doorknob turn and heavy footsteps. He chewed the inside of his cheek to distract from the pain. The door swung shut, and he could hear the footsteps getting closer. His head was still throbbing, and he was in no mood to deal with Morrison right now.

A knock at the door. “Reyes, you in there?”

Gabriel opened the cabinets under the sink and pulled out a towel. He reached up, running cool water over it and laid it around his neck. “What do you want, Blondie?”

“Just wanted to talk. Introduce myself.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to answer, but instead he leaned back over the toilet and threw up again. “Not in the mood.”

“You need some water or anything?”

He frowned. “Tryin’ to butter me up, Morrison? Thought I told you your white boy charm wasn’t gonna work on me.” He used the end of the towel to wipe his mouth.

“Actually you brought up my pageant smile, and how they don’t win people over in this joint.” There was a touch of laughter in his voice. On another day, Gabe might have smiled at his own remark. But right now, he felt like shit, and Morrison’s voice was grinding on his nerves.

Gabriel sagged against the wall, scrubbing at his face with a heavy sigh. He glanced toward the shower. Might as well. He stood up slowly, head swirling in protest. He stripped his clothes off and stepped in. The cool water was so soothing on his skin, he could have cried. Droplets streaked down his face, and his head quit pounding the longer he stood under the showerhead. He closed his eyes, wrenching the handle up slightly. The sudden burst of warmth made him shiver, and he sighed. It soothed his aching arms. The injection sites looked fine, save for some bruising. He massaged his biceps gently, wincing at the tenderness.

After a minute or two of just enjoying the water running over him, Gabriel shut the water off and stepped out, picking his towel up off the ground. He dried his hair as best he could, then wrapped it around his waist. When he opened the door, his foot connected with something, and he swore quietly. He looked down and saw a water bottle rolling away. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he chased it down. Gabe turned it over in his hand, blinking slowly before lifting his head. His eyes surveyed the room, and he caught a glimpse of Morrison waiting in the doorway of his room, waiting to see what he would do.

A sigh slipped past Gabriel’s lips. He leaned over and set the bottle back on the ground, grumbling out just loud enough to be heard, “Nice try, boy scout. You’ll have to do better than that.”


	2. Low

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit! College has really been picking up in this last half of the semester! I hope you enjoy. Next one should be a big one.

Gabriel jolted awake, eyes flying open as he steadied his breathing. Sweat was beading across his forehead and arms. He sat up, and his muscles shrieked in protest. His teeth chattered, whether from a fever or pain he wasn’t sure. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Gabe tossed the sheets off his body, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. His head was foggy; all his movements felt slowed, and it was a struggle to get his limbs to obey him. He stumbled from his room and into the living area. He padded over to the small kitchen area, tearing open the small fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. It crinkled as he twisted the cap off, tilting it up and downing it all in one go. He set it aside and pulled out another, drinking it slowly this time. He finished half of it before pulling away with a sigh. He was still shivering, sweat rolling down his skin in waves. He attempted to press the bottle to his forehead, but his arms felt like lead so the bottle slammed into his skull instead. Cursing quietly, Gabe set the bottle down on the counter and headed into the bathroom. He dug a fresh washcloth out and soaked it in the sink, dragging it over his face and chest to at least stop his fever from climbing. He walked back into the kitchen, picking up his water bottle and opting to sit on the couch rather than under the covers. He continued to smooth the rag over his skin, looking dazedly out in front of him.

A noise off to his left made him pick his head up. Morrison looked in even worse shape than he was. He watched him rush into the bathroom, wincing when he heard him start throwing up. Gabriel closed his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. He lifted his water bottle to his lips, the cap bumping against his teeth. Annoyed, he fumbled with it, eventually managing to rip it off and toss it aside. He sipped at the water, listening to the splash of Morrison emptying his stomach into the toilet and screwing his eyes shut. He could practically feel Anderson at his back hissing in his ear,  _ Welcome to the SEP. _

Gabe heard footsteps and he opened his eyes. Morrison looked even paler than usual, lips completely devoid of color. There were dark circles under his eyes and a scratch on his face. He’d either slept like shit or not at all. Gabriel turned back around and wiped his rag over the back of his neck again. He had stopped sweating, but his skin was still burning despite his shivers. He chewed the inside of his lip as he exhaled through his nose.

The couch dipped beside him, and he looked over to see Morrison staring at the wall. He had a water bottle, but his hand was shaking so hard he couldn’t have drank from it if he wanted to. An unnatural flush was dusting his cheeks, and Gabriel took pity on him. He blamed it on his fever. He took his washcloth and splashed some of his water on it before laying it over Morrison’s neck. He looked up at him, blue eyes unfocused.

Morrison mumbled something Gabe couldn’t quite understand, but he reached up and pressed the rag against his neck, so he assumed it was some sort of acknowledgement. The shaking of his hand slowed, and he was able to take small sips of his water. After a minute or two, color returned to his lips, and his eyes lost that glazed look. Gabriel leaned his head back to stare up at the ceiling. They sat there sipping their waters and let the silence settle between them. They passed the rag back and forth, smoothing it over their faces and chests before handing it back to the other. After his fever had subsided enough, Gabriel stood from the couch, but just as he went to head back into his room to lie down, he felt a hand on his wrist. He looked down, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Morrison pressed the rag into his hand, gaze soft and still slightly clouded. “Thanks, Reyes.” Gabriel took the washcloth, thumbing it gently as he considered it. A beat passed, and Gabe laid it back on Morrison’s neck.

“Keep cooling off, boy scout,” he rumbled. His voice was low. Gabe turned and went back to his bedroom, closing the door. He crawled back into his bed, his muscles relaxing under the cool sheets. The clock read four thirty, and he sighed.

* * *

 

“Keep up, boy scout.”

Gabriel was gritting his teeth, dragging himself up the ropes. Sweat poured down his back, and the strain felt good on his exhausted muscles. Morrison was lagging behind, and it was costing them precious time. Two other teams had pulled ahead, and while Figueroa had said it wasn’t a competition, the team of doctors on the sidelines that were scribbling notes begged to differ.

The pair of doctors, scientists if Gabriel had any say in it, had followed them all morning. They had started off with more sparring in the training room, and then Figueroa had barked for push ups like it was fucking basic training again. Eventually, they’d been dragged outside into a heavily fenced yard, a course before them. It had looked easy enough, but now they were struggling, and they still had a ways to go.

“Help me the fuck up,” Morrison snapped, ankle tangled in the ropes again. He was jostling the whole damn thing at this point attempting to free himself, and Gabe was clinging to it for dear life.

Gabriel practically growled, climbing the rest of the way. He straddled the beam at the top and leaned down to grab Morrison’s hand. He nearly yanked him off. “Fuck--easy,  _ pendejo _ , I’m on a fucking two-by-four!”

“Well  _ I’m  _ fucking stuck!” They were snarling at each other across the ropes, and Gabriel had half a mind to drop Morrison’s ungrateful ass, but that probably wouldn’t reflect well on his notes. He looked off to the right and could see the doctors eying them and scribbling quickly. He focused back on Morrison.

“Stop shaking!” Gabe exhaled loudly through his nose. “Quit moving, you stubborn son of a bitch!” Morrison stilled. Another team was coming up. They needed to move, lest they get passed  _ again _ . “Go fucking limp and let me pull you. You’ll come loose.”

Morrison worked his jaw, but he nodded. Gabriel tightened his grip on Morrison’s hand, other hand coming to grasp his forearm. He yanked him up the ropes, his foot coming loose easily without Morrison fighting against them. He regained his footing and straddled the top.

“Let’s go. We’ve got ground to make up,” Gabriel muttered. He nodded again, and they descended down the ropes with newfound vigor. They leapt off halfway through, hitting the ground running. Morrison was faster, and he passed him with ease, but not without shooting a smirk at Gabriel. His blood boiled. He had just helped that damn ingrate. He bared his teeth and pushed harder, feet pounding the dirt as he caught back up with Morrison. His shirt was drenched, the heather gray of the t-shirt darkening to the point where he almost couldn’t see the ‘SEP’ emblazoned on the front.

A climbing wall loomed over them, cutting a shadow across the lawn and Gabriel heard Morrison sigh in frustration. It was Gabe’s turn to flash a smirk. He started up the wall, digging his fingers in hard. He felt Morrison’s eyes glaring into his back as he climbed, heard the scrabbling of Morrison’s feet.

“You two caught up quick!”

Gabriel chanced a glance up the wall. The woman with the box braids was looking down at him. Her grin was tired, sweat beading above her eyebrows and rolling down her nose. Her partner, the man she’d fought first yesterday, was at the top, calling out where to put her feet.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” He laughed breathily, pulling himself farther up. He and Morrison had been neck and neck with them at the beginning of the course, so it calmed his nerves to know they’d caught back up. He flicked his eyes to Morrison who was keeping up better than he’d expected despite the struggle. “Thought we lost you for good back at the ropes!”

She laughed, tossing her head back. “Oh no. Rock walls? These sons-of-bitches are like kryptonite to me!” One foot slipped from its place as she spoke. “Shit!” She searched for a hold but couldn’t find one. Gabriel freed one hand from the wall and grabbed her heel. He guided it to a rock. “Thanks, kid.”

“Didn’t want your ass falling on me,” he shot back, smiling. He eyed his options. The woman wasn’t moving quick, and they could easily pass the two of them. He tracked a path off to the right, and reached over, fingers digging in hard and swinging his legs to a pair of footholds. “Hey, boy scout!” Morrison raised his head. “Think you can shift right so we can pass these two?”

Morrison furrowed his brow, and he didn’t answer. He reached to his right, hand finding solid surface. “Christ--what the hell, Reyes?!”

“Don’t start your fucking mouth again!” Gabriel growled, looking back down. “Alright, now move your other hand.” Morrison latched on, and Gabe could see the muscles flexing in his back as he stretched. “What you’re gonna do now is push off and swing your legs up.”

Morrison snapped his mouth shut, arms starting to shake from the strain. His teeth flashed in the sunlight as he growled.

“Move before you fall, idiot!”

Morrison conceded, grunting as he swung his legs over. Panic flashed briefly across his face as he struggled to connect his feet back to the wall, but once he found purchase he relaxed again. Gabriel let out a sigh he’d been holding, half expecting Morrison to have crashed to the bottom. “A damn miracle,” he muttered, continuing to climb. He swung up to the top, giving a quick grin to the man before starting back down. Morrison followed suit with no complaints. Gabe hit the ground, pausing at the bottom to let Morrison catch up. “Last one. Think you can manage it, pretty boy?”

 

Morrison stared at him, words dripping venomously as he muttered, “Just move.”

Gabriel smiled, drawing energy from his annoyance. He bumped him lightly with his shoulder before jogging forward, Morrison in tow. The bars were easy, and despite the burn in their arms, they swung through them without slowing down. The moved in tandem, pausing to wait for the other before trudging ahead. They managed to catch up to the team ahead of them who were halfway through the barbed wire.

Gabriel dropped beside Morrison, and they started forward. Morrison pulled himself ahead, nearly connecting his boot with Gabe’s face at one point. The wire snagged at his shirt constantly; he couldn’t move. The barbed wire felt heavy, like when his cousins used to sit on his chest. He swallowed hard, trying to push down the panic rising in his throat. He slapped at the wire tangled in his shirt. The skin of his knuckles broke open on the wire, but he barely felt it. His breathing was shallow, and he shook. Morrison was standing up at the end of course, and Gabriel weakly tried to drag his body farther forward. He could vaguely hear Morrison calling his name, but it sounded far away, like he’d been stuffed in a glass bowl. Gabriel bit down on his tongue. It felt like a mountain was crushing his back, and he was shivering despite the heat.

“Reyes!”

Gabe snapped his head forward, the fog in his head lifting slightly.

“Take my hands.” Morrison was back on his belly, sticking his hands under the barbed wire. Gabriel met his big blue eyes, grounding himself in Morrison’s presence. He said it again, voice low like Gabriel’s had been last night, “Take my hands.”

Gabriel reached forward, hands trembling as he locked his fingers with Morrison’s. He dragged him the rest of the way out; Gabe scrambled to a sitting position, looking up at the sky for reassurance. He took ragged breaths, trying to quell his fluttering heart. Morrison sat beside him, and he, thankfully, didn’t say anything. Gabriel’s face was flushed, embarrassed at the panic still thick in his blood. He hadn’t had a moment like that since basic. Figueroa approached them. Gabriel slapped the dirt off his front as he stood, saluting with a shaky arm.

“Well done.” He looked at the other team as they clawed their way out from under the barbed wire; they dusted themselves off before saluting. He frowned deeply, lines worn into his cheeks. He turned his eyes back to Gabriel and Morrison. Figueroa had eyes like flint and heavy bags under his eyes, and, despite the praise, Gabriel felt like he was not pleased in the least. Probably just a resting bitch face. “Keep it up, you two.” He turned on his heel, nodding to the other team before leaving.

Gabriel plopped back down on the ground with a sigh, letting his breathing slow as he sat there. He looked back across the course, watching the other pairs of partners make their way through the objects in their way. Morrison sat next to him, breathing heavily through his nose. He could feel the heat rolling off Morrison’s skin in waves.

“Damn, you two hauled ass,” The woman wheezed as she pulled herself from under the wire. She flopped on her back in the grass, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. Her partner went face first in the grass, pulling a laugh from Gabriel’s chest.

“I don’t like losing,” Gabriel said, grinning at her, sticking his hand forward. “Gabriel Reyes.” He jerked his thumb beside him, “John Morrison.”

“Call me Jack.” Gabriel shot a glance at Morrison. He’d never mentioned that to Gabe, though it wasn’t like he’d asked.

“Rochelle King.” She shook his hand. She nodded her head toward her partner. “Jamie Leonard.”

“Nice to meet you.” He reached forward and patted Jamie’s back. “You, too, Leonard.” Jamie gave him a weak thumbs up. Gabe laughed again, and he heard Morrison chuckle quietly beside him.

Rochelle exhaled heavily, stretching her arms over her head. Gabriel eyed the ink on her arm. He’d always wanted tattoos, but he knew he could never sit for them. He’d gone with plenty of his buddies from his unit to watch them get their own ink, but watching them squirm and bleed for hours on end killed that desire on the spot. Rochelle’s shoulders popped, and she let her arms fall to her sides. She smiled at Gabriel, “Wanna get lunch? I’m starved.”

“Sure.” Gabriel stood up, pulling up the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face with it. Jamie hauled himself to his feet, grass stains mixing with the dirt on his chest. Gabe turned, meeting Morrison’s blue eyes. He was still sitting on the ground, and he furrowed his brow. “You coming?”

“Nah,” Morrison said, breaking their gaze to look back across the field. “Couple guys I met at breakfast should finish up soon. I’ll go with them.”

Gabe nodded, just barely suppressing his urge to roll his eyes. Morrison had probably found a few frat boys this morning and cozied up to them. Gabriel turned to leave, but he hesitated, wondering if he should give some sort of ‘goodbye’ or ‘see you later’ Thankfully, Rochelle called for him, and he was saved of the trouble.

“Let’s go, kid!” she shouted over her shoulder. “You keep dragging ass and Jamie’s gonna take your portion!”

“Hey, now that’s just fucking unfair!” Rochelle was laughing as he raced to catch up with them. His muscles throbbed unrelentingly. His injection sites were deeply bruised. His partner was less than ideal. But as he jogged after Rochelle and Jamie, their laughter ringing out against the walls, a smile split his lips. He felt good. He could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a kudos if you liked it! Comments are nice, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos if you enjoyed and a comment if you want to yell with me or at me!!


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